Keeping Her Close. Carol Ross
dogs and four cats rounded out the total of occupants. And Mia’s dog, George, was roughly the size of two people. Currently, the mastiff-bloodhound mix was camped out under the dining room table with his massive head resting on Kyle’s feet. George was the sweetest dog in the world with a bad habit of eating anything that would fit between his massive jaws. Which gave Kyle an idea.
Leaning backward, he glanced under the table. “Georgie,” he whispered.
“I already tried it,” Levi said, reading his intention. “George won’t eat it.”
“Really? Dang.” That did not bode well. Kyle had seen George eat chunks of rotten seaweed like they were gravy-covered biscuits. Kyle picked up his fork and used it to flip up the top layer of the omelet. Taking a peek inside, he whispered, “What are the grayish-brown bits?”
“Pepitas,” Levi answered.
At Kyle’s confused headshake, Levi explained, “That’d be a pumpkin seed to you and me.”
“In an omelet?” The eggs at least would be good, courtesy of Nora’s cage-free, organically fed laying hens.
“Nora thinks they go in everything. She even puts them in those cookie things she makes.” To Kyle’s way of thinking, the “cookie things” weren’t truly cookies because they didn’t contain sugar. Still, he’d decided he could handle the sugar-free life better than the meatless one.
Kyle let out a dramatic sigh, and said wistfully, “You know, Levi, there was a time in my life when my mom made the best ham-and-cheese omelets on the planet.”
“Ham?” Levi quirked a skeptical brow. “You’re telling me Nora Frasier once ingested nitrite-laden, sodium-infused pork products?”
“Those were good times.”
They shared a chuckle.
“I still can’t believe you have two jobs!” Nora called from the kitchen.
Exchanging concerned glances, Kyle and Levi both hurriedly shoveled in several bites of omelet before Nora reappeared.
“I’m swallowing the peptides whole,” Kyle whispered. Levi laughed outright at his deliberate mispronunciation.
Soon after he’d arrived in Pacific Cove, Kyle had discovered that Levi also was not a fan of the meat alternatives Nora liked to ply them with when he’d come in late one night and found him frying bacon. The real stuff. No fakon for this kid. Kyle enthusiastically offered to help. They’d feasted on bacon sandwiches after which Levi showed Kyle his processed meat stash in the spare fridge in the garage. They’d taken to clandestinely going out for burgers whenever they could manage. No way would either of them risk hurting Nora’s feelings by confessing to these transgressions.
Nora hustled back into the room with her own plate. “And you found a place to live.”
“One job at a time, Mom.” Kyle grinned at Nora. “And the housing is temporary. In exchange for helping out a friend’s daughter, I’m going to stay in her guest cottage for a month. After I start at Dahlia, I’ll be able to find more permanent lodgings of my own.”
“And it’s right here in Pacific Cove?”
“Basically. It’s several miles south of town.”
“Who is it? Do I know these people?”
“I doubt you know them,” he hedged. Of course, his mom had heard of David Bellaire, but after Harper revealed that no one in Pacific Cove seemed aware of the association between her and her father, they decided to keep it that way. This was made easier because Harper used the last name Jansen, her mother’s maiden name, as her professional moniker. “They’re from Seattle, and the daughter has only been living here a few months.”
His mom had met Owen a couple of times when Kyle had brought him home with him on leave. But that had been years ago; she didn’t know him well. To his knowledge, she hadn’t been aware that Owen had been in a relationship. Kyle didn’t mention the association now because it would be a lot to explain without revealing Harper’s parentage. “Need to know” was ingrained in him right along with his sense of loyalty. Like a lot of habits that had kept him alive in his military career, he doubted he’d ever break that one either.
As it had too often since he’d been here in Pacific Cove, it struck him once again how little his family knew about him. Understandable to a degree, considering the circumstances of his career. The sad part was how little he knew about them. He’d been a terrible son to his mom and an even worse brother to Mia. He hadn’t even come home for Mia and Jay’s wedding. A fresh twist of regret and guilt tightened his chest.
“That’s great news! Isn’t that great news, Mia?” His mom, at least, didn’t seem to hold it against him. She tried so hard to make him feel like he belonged. Too hard, Kyle thought. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven so easily.
Kyle watched Mia in the kitchen beyond pouring a cup of coffee. Ten years in the military, eight of those in Special Forces, numerous life-and-death missions, and his big sister still made him nervous. As kids, they’d never had a great relationship or even a good one for that matter. Now, as an adult, Kyle understood why. Their dad, William Frasier, now deceased, but who they’d only recently learned was not Mia’s biological father, had always favored Kyle. Worse than that, he’d basically ignored Mia.
On an unspoken level, Kyle had known it was unfair, but he’d worshipped his navy officer father, so he’d never questioned his dad’s unequal treatment of his kids. Partially because, painful as it was to admit, he’d been the one to reap the benefits. He regretted that, and especially the wedge it had driven between him and Mia. Kyle wanted to fix it, or at least make it better; he just had no clue how to go about it. He wasn’t sure it was possible.
Mia entered the dining room and sat at the table opposite him. “That is good news,” she said in a tone that told Kyle the words didn’t equate to how she really felt. “Congratulations. But, when you start at Dahlia, you’ll be gone all the time anyway, right? So basically, it will be like you’re still in the navy.”
“Not exactly,” he said, even though his stomach pitched at the truth behind her words. He’d figure out a way to make it work.
“Dangerous assignments where you spend weeks or months overseas,” she intoned wryly. “Yeah, totally different.”
“I’ll be paid a lot more, and I’m out of uniform.” That sounded lame even to him.
“So, you’re doing it for the money?”
Kyle was grateful for the military training that kept him from reacting to his sister’s challenging stare. There didn’t seem to be much they could discuss without disagreeing. “I couldn’t make anything even close to what I’ll be making at Dahlia anywhere around here.” That was another evasion. The truth was that he didn’t really have an answer to Mia’s question, other than he and Owen had planned this for years. From the time Owen had left the military, they’d begun discussing it. They’d wanted to work together again, and maybe someday start their own business. Owen had been gearing up for it already, planning, waiting for Kyle to join him at Dahlia. Irrational as it was, he couldn’t shake the notion that if he’d started at Dahlia sooner, Owen would still be alive. The day before the accident, when he’d called, Owen had once again said how much he wished Kyle was with him. Bottom line, he felt compelled to take the job. Just like he did where Harper was concerned. The obligation, the drive to somehow make this right, was something he couldn’t explain.
He hadn’t realized how much Harper represented unfinished business until he’d seen Dr. Bellaire. The thought had only intensified when he’d met her face-to-face. Now it felt like his duty to make sure she’d be okay, to give her the tools to stay safe. To be happy. From their conversation the night before, Kyle could see she was hurting, no doubt dealing with her own regrets and grief. Fate, in the form of Dr. Bellaire, had given him an opportunity to ease his conscience by helping the love of Owen’s life, and